


Of Virtue and Treachery

by F1nch



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Collab with people who don't have A03, Execution, F/F, Fancestors, Forbidden Love, Forced helmsmanship, Hemospectrum, Lesbian Romance, Occasional Alternian Headcannons, Original Character(s), Possible mentions of nudity, Strong Language, Verbal Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F1nch/pseuds/F1nch
Summary: For each generation of trolls had their own ancestors, those who they looked up to. But were all ancestors truly to look up to? This is the tale of a Shipswoman, a highblood, a helmsman, and an executioner.(Please note that this is a collaboration and different chapters will have different writing styles.)





	1. Chapter One - The Beginning

     

    Your name is not Shipswoman Hourglass, nor was it ever, but it was the one the name of one young troll, many years ago. A violetblood, a wriggler of great privilege, and therefore, a wriggler of great ambition. As her bloodline states, she will grow up to be a great captain, fighting for the glory of the Alternian empire. But, for now, she is simply a wriggler, living in her grand hive, along with her lusus.

     But she knows that this will not last long, and the very idea of soaring through space, in command of a battleship, made this young troll giddy. As it is with the ignorance of wrigglers. 

It also seems, existing in the same time and place of paradox space, is another wriggler, though one is who is far different from their wistful counterpart. For this wriggler, The Outraged, had no regard for the life of others. A purpleblood himself, he was not interested in flight nor adventure, but in violence. A troll destined for killing and destruction.

Maybe this wriggler could have been saved, but a chance for such a thing has long passed by. For an outraged troll was never calmed, especially one of a high caste.

A sorrowful thing, truly, is that it is far more common for a troll to be destructive than to be benevolent, and this was the case for a wriggler of influence. A wriggler known as The Operator. Though their blood color remained unknown, several gathered to hear their sermons, which they preached accompanied by their moth lusus, the only thing they had ever felt love for.

This troll preached for violence and war, but they were not passionate about such thing. But, if preaching helped them meet their goal, it was something they would do willingly.

Completing this roster stands a humble limeblood. Neither a lowblood, nor a highblood, but a meager midblood. Despite their caste, however, this troll will forever be known as The Lowblood. As all psionics are destined to be, this wriggler of great logic and knowledge was to be reduced to a living battery. This, however, did not stop them from living out their younger sweeps as a troll of intelligence and curiosity.

These are the four trolls that will perform our tale today. A tale long lost to paradox space is once again told. This is a tale Of Virtue and Treachery.  


	2. Chapter Two - The Gift

 

     A ship arrives at its port, and a captain off it’s deck. Ehlias Oengus stands proud on the dock, for she had just gotten a promotion to the lead captain of her fleet, which had been her dream since she was a wriggler. But that isn’t why she was at this dock. She was here to receive a gift from an acquaintance, an important gift for an important promotion, from none other than Korans Metera himself. 

     Ehlias began heading towards the palace in which her acquaintance resides, taking long strides that cause her hair and cape to gently flow behind her. She thought of what Korans had told her, what had convinced her to come to his palace in the first place. 

     ‘In honor of your recent promotion,’ She recalled, ‘I have gotten you a gift. Every good fleet needs a helmsman.’ The grin on her face grew as she replayed those sentences in her head. 

   She eventually reached the palace that belonged to the purpleblood, and approached the two midblood guards, who immediately blocked the door. 

     “State your name and purpose.” One growled. She rolled her eyes and chuckled.

     “You’d think you two would know me by now. Ehlias Oengus, I was summoned here by Korans to retrieve a gift.” She responded sarcastically. The guards didn’t seem very amused by her sarcasm, but stepped away from the door regardless. Ehlias blew a kiss as she walked past, which earned her two death glares.

     Once she reached the throne where her acquaintance resides, she bowed politely. It was just the thing to do in another troll’s hive, in her opinion at least.

     “So, where’s this gift you promised~?” Ehlias purrs, coming back up from her bow. Korans snorts, not phased by this sort of game. He motions towards a small, cowering troll standing nearby. The troll had spiky hair, with goggles pushing it back, and seemed to have been in here for quite a while as they were practically starving. Disappointment rushed through her, as she glared at the much shorter troll before her.

     “You’re kidding, right? There is no way that thing can survive being a helmsman.” She scoffs, turning back to her acquaintance. He merely glares at her, not using chucklevoodoo to respond. Ehlias folds her arms just beneath her bust, and continues glaring at Korans.  

     “You realize a helmsman has to be in some form of good shape, or at least above dying.” She tried to sass him into speaking, but he merely gives an unamused shrug. Ehlias rolls her eyes, and grabs the frail troll by the binds that kept her arms behind her back. “You’re lucky you’re so threatening.” She bites, dragging her new helmsman out of the palace, and back towards the docks where her ship resides.

     Huffing, Ehlias tossed the smaller troll into the port, pulling their hands up to reach the top. “Now you better not whine, and you better not force me to keep you on life support, or else I will make your life further hell than it’s already about to become. Understand?” She bites, getting up in her helmsman's face. The small troll could only manage a nod, too petrified to try and respond.

     “Ugh, pathetic.” Ehlias growled, turning with a swish of her cape and leaving the helmsman on her own.


	3. A Strengthened Tie

 

     Ehlias’s impression of the Outraged dramatically changed after that interaction. The so-called “gift” was some practically dead helmsman? She almost felt bad for the sorry thing. It was clearly going to die as soon as the ship started up. Without the bio-nav to help the ship, she had to wait around for her battleship to slowly crawl its way to some placed to get an actual helmsman.  
     Though she appeared to be quite unsympathetic, she had a hard time seeing the limeblood slowly dying. After pondering it for a while, she resolved to give the sorrowful troll a quick death. It would be better than watching it starve to death. Culling would be mercy at that point. Clutching the handle of her sword in its sheathe, she took a deep breath and began making her way to the engine room, or as most trolls knew it as, the helmsman’s quarters.  
Her blood pusher ached every time she saw the troll, and this time was no different. The limeblood, with its ribs showing and its body entirely limp, was hyperventilating in the helmsman port. The tentacles holding their arms in place were more muscled than their actual arms.  
     Ehlias glided her sword from its holster, seeing its amethyst crystals glitter in the low light of the engine room. The limeblood's eyes did not open, nor did it react. It seemed to be dead already.  
     As she drew her sword back in preparation to strike, something strange happened. The troll’s eyes opened slightly, and its bony head lifted. Unlike any other troll faced with death, it showed no fear. It seemed content.  
The shipswoman felt as if a culling arrow had struck her heart. It had never occurred to her before that this troll was, well, aware. Her hand seemed to lose connection to her body as it unclasped around the sword, allowing the blade to fall to the ground. The limeblood maintained eye contact, but its head cocked to the side, like that of a confused barkbeast.  
     “What are you waiting for?” They croaked, voice raspy and hoarse.  
     Ehilas was taken aback by this, and questioned, “You can speak?”  
     Something happened that the shipswoman thought she would never see. A small smile spread across the helmsman’s face.  
     “Well, of course. I’m still a troll, after all,” they responded, though they had to stop for breath once every few words.  
     “I, you knew I was going to kill you?”  
     “I was expecting it. I’m going to die anyway, by culling or not is the only real question.”  
     Ehlias’s knees suddenly gave out, and she fell to her knees. As if it was just some conversation between two wrigglers on trollian, the limeblood asked,  
     “Have you got a name?”  
     “Ehlias Oengus, shipswoman of the imperial fleet.”  
     “I’ve never really had a name. Well, I do. But no one calls me by it.”  
     “Hm? Then, what do they call you?”  
     “The lowblood,”  
     “Well, I will not call you as such. What is your real name,”  
     Taking a deep shuddery breath, the lowblood responded, “I am Xieksa Dalmra.”  
     Ehlias didn’t notice as purple tears began to stream down her face.


	4. Battleships Don't Get Visitors

Shipswoman Hourglass piloted a battleship, and Xieksa Dalmra helmed a battleship. True to their name, battleships were meant for battle. They were armed with weapons and plated with armor thicker than the scales of a dragon lusus.   
Hourglass was quite sure that everyone was aware of the ships intended purpose. The troll that should understand this most was the fleet director.   
When she ordered them on an escort mission, it seemed that he had suffered a juggalgo club to the brain. But, as Ehlias’s superiors were intent on repeating for her, you do what the fleet director says, she's called the director for a reason.   
And, thus, the crew of the Hourglass, as ships were normally named after their pilots, was practically forced to prepare for a visitor. These preparations mostly consisted of Ehlias yelling at slacking rustbloods who couldn't even manage to clean their own respiteblock. Who knew being the head of a ship made you into Terrus’s strictest lusus.   
Despite all these issues the violetblood had to deal with, they were not starved for some sort of solace. Visiting with the helmsman of her ship seemed to be the only thing keeping her sane, and, in turn, keeping the fragile limeblood sane. Though an adult, the troll seemed to retain the optimism and humor of a wriggler. When not using their psionics to yank the protesting ship into battle, they would use them to make random things move, producing some of the funniest bronzeblood yelps Ehlias had heard in her lifetime.   
Even with the preparations happening all around, the midblooded helmsman and their pilot still found time to simply speak. About the past, the present, the future.   
Ehlias learned that the limeblood had been a hacker before they had been taken away to be a psionic for the imperial army. They had a ferret lusus, or rather, a two headed ferret lusus that shared one body and one set of legs. Throughout their wrigglerhood, they had been only accompanied by a land dwelling violetblood, one who rapidly changed quadrants. One perigree, they were matesprites, then moralis, and at last kismesises who broke apart. The rather well-moraled high blood had no interest in their hacking ways, no matter what it brought them.   
It was on their seventh wriggling day, a somber day spent alone with a lusus attempting to bake, that two threshicutioners showed up at their door.   
Though this certainly made them sympathize, they could not spend their focus on such tragic tales. Instead, they chose to discuss plans most of the time. It turned out that the helmsman was a rather decent strategist, with a knack for imagining battles, and how they could go wrong.   
It was during one of these discussions that the visitor arrived.   
Ehlias had been in the engine room, holding up their husktop to showcase their latest battle plan to Xieksa, when the ship bounced to a halt, and the main door opened.   
The only jadeblood on board, also known as the most confident troll with charisma, had been designated to welcome the visitor. But even such a greeting would not do. Ehlias knew that it was her duty to greet the visitor herself.   
With a pap to the limeblood, and a brief goodbye, she was gone from the engine room.   
As planned, the jadeblood and the visitor were engaging in polite chatter by the door. By the looks of them, the visitor seemed to be a highblood, adorned with heavy jewelry and wearing the most bejeweled of dresses. They gave no name for themselves, only introducing themselves as “The Operator.” They were said to be a leader in the movement of public enforcement of the hemospectrum, one who needed to be transported to one of the moons of Terrus for a sermon of some sort.   
With a painted smile and a dismissive wave, the Operator was sent off to a respiteblock that had been so gracefully given up by a blueblood engineer, who didn't use it anyways.   
Now that that was out of the way, the violetblood could return to the engine room, a blooming garden of diamonds.


	5. Garden of Diamonds

After a single day of living on the same battleship as him, Ehlias was just about ready to rip the operator’s, who had told them their real name was Lyvkat, throat out. And not in a kismesis way, in an actual, violent way, that not even the most experienced auspistice would be able to quell.   
On the first day they spent on the ship, Lyvkat had yelled at two rustbloods after they tried to bring them food, sicked their tiny moth lusus on a canine lusus a hundred times its size, and then cried a bit when his lusus lost.   
Xieksa had thought this was all quite hilarious, but wasn't exactly happy about the wrigglerlike bullying the one they felt pale for had to endure. In retaliation, they had terrified Lyvkat by making a whirlwind of pillows in the middle of their respiteblock. When Lyvkat demanded an explanation, Ehlias told the truth, blaming it on an “unruly helmsman,” which wasn't exactly wrong. Xieksa was far from a normal helmsman, in terms of both personality and livelihood.   
Ehlias didn't wish to admit it, but a quadrant between them and Xieksa was obviously blooming, though, whether flush or pale, they didn't know. On Terrus, redrom had never been something to be ashamed of. All of the noble seadwellers, the ones that lowblood camera crews would always follow, were never seen without their matesprit or moirail.   
But, on Terrus, there was a hitch to redrom. To all quadrants, actually.   
If you were a lowblood, you couldn't be in a quadrant with a midblood, nor a highblood. The same rule applied to all blood classes. And Ehlias new as well as anyone that they were a highblood, and Xieksa was a low.   
Any quadrant between the two could have the limeblooded helmsman culled for “seducing a highblood.”  
Ehlias had a lot of power, especially over their crew mates that looked after the ship. If they wanted a quadrant with Xieksa, so be it. What would any rustblood do about it? Spreading rumors about a highblood was almost as strictly forbidden as quadranting with them.   
But their crewmates weren't the only ones on board the ship.   
Gog, did they hate Lyvkat.   
Not only was the troll a religious leader of some sort, they were a hemoenforcer. If they found out about Xieksa and Ehlias, the helmsman would lose their life, and the admiral her fleet.   
During the perigrees that Lyvkat was on the ship, Ehlias and Xieksa hardly ever spoke, except for professional reasons. It seemed that the operator was everywhere, knew everything spoken on the ship.   
He even heard the conversation between Xieksa and Ehlias as the ship was only a perigree from landing.   
It was no easy landing procedure, and with no instruction, it was almost certain that the feeble limeblood would crash.   
But when Ehlias entered the engine room, they had no intention of purring.   
All trolls were capable of producing the strange noise, especially olivebloods, but once they reached wrigglerhood, they only made it when around their lusus.   
Or their quadrantmate.   
Ehlias couldn't control it, and neither could Xieksa when they purred back. And, apparently, neither could Lyvkat, as they overheard.   
Shaking their fins in embarrassment, the seadweller silently, and hesitantly, meandered their way up to the helmsman. They gestured towards where they knew the cult leader was hiding using their earfins.   
“So, were landing, in a perigree,” the violetblood murmured, “It shouldn't be difficult. We're landing in between two midblood hivestems. And,” they added with the slightest hint of malice in their tone, “We are dropping off Lyvkat.”  
“Easy,” Xieksa responded in a strange, far off voice, their attention clearly focused on the eavesdropper in the block. As they spoke, Ehlias began to worry. This wasn't their first time having a helmsman, they were a violetblooded admiral after all, and they knew that tone. It was the voice of a helmsman that wouldn't survive much longer.   
“You sure? I mean, you haven't really flown close to a Terrus before?”  
“I can manage. How much harder could it be than landing on any other planet?”  
“Alright. But, tell me if you can't.” In that moment, Ehlias couldn't have cared less about Lyvkat listening. This was about their matesprit’s life!  
As Ehlias left the engine room, they heard two distinct purrs. One, of a limeblood to their matesprit, and the other, of a mysteryblood to their lusus.


End file.
